Catch Me When I Fall
by Mitsuru Aki
Summary: A close brush with death forces Wufei to take a closer look at some occurances in his life that may not have just been coincidences. And why won't Duo just leave him alone? Eventual 2x5 Reposted!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, unfortunately. And despite all the fun ways I like to play with them, they don't belong to me. Maybe that's a good thing. I shudder to think of what might have happened if I was in charge. Heaven help us all. I don't own these lyrics, Catch Me When I Fall, either, by Ashlee Simpson.

**Author's Note:** Just another random idea that popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn't write anything else without this plot line interrupting it. Gomen! This story will only be about ten chapters, maybe less. Review and let me know what you think! And Wufei, I'm really _really_ sorry.

This is a re-posting. I just want to apologize to everyone out there who was read this and any of my other stories. This year was a really crappy year for me—my mom found out about my account and I had to tear everything down. I got kicked out of my house in October, and I've been struggling to keep everything together on my own, and the college process is a complete bitch when you've got no support and no one to turn to. So I'm finally putting everything back up where it should be; the only good thing is that now I get to do some major editing! So don't give up on me, because despite all appearances, I haven't given up on these stories.

Is anybody out there  
Does anybody see  
That when the lights are off something's killing me

I know it seems like people care  
Cause they're always around me  
But when the day is done and everybody runs

Who will be the one to save me from myself  
Who will be the one who's there  
And not ashamed to see me crawl  
Who's gonna catch me when I fall

When the show is over  
And it's empty everywhere  
It's hard to face going back alone  
So I walk around the city  
Anything, anything to clear my head  
I've got nowhere to go nowhere but home

Who will be the one to save me from myself  
Who will be the one who's there  
And not ashamed to see me crawl  
Who's gonna catch me when I fall

It may seem I have everything  
But everything means nothing  
When the ride that you've been on  
That you're coming off  
Leaves you feeling lost

Is anybody out there  
Does anyobdy see  
That sometimes loneliness is just a part of me

Who will be the one to save me from myself?  
Who will be the one who's there  
And not ashamed to see me crawl?  
Who's gonna catch me when I fall?  
Who's gonna catch me when I fall?  
Who's gonna catch me when I fall  
And not ashamed to see me crawl?  
Who's gonna catch me when I fall?

**Catch Me When I Fall**

By: Mitsuru Aki

"Oh Wuuuuuufeeeeeiii!"

_Oh, please, no,_ Chang Wufei thought desperately, typing faster in the vain hope the sound would drown out whoever was approaching. And it could only be one person. _Anyone but him!_

A beaming face appeared over the partition wall to his cubicle, chestnut braid draped over his shoulder and amethyst eyes sparkling. Duo Maxwell crossed his arms on the wall and rested his chin on them. "Whatcha doin' Wu-man?"

Even though both men were in their twenties now, the braided twit still felt the need to give him a nickname.

"Don't call me that," Wufei retorted automatically, never taking his eyes off the computer screen. He cursed all the empty cubicles and their absent occupants for leaving when regular working hours had ended. Silently, of course, so he wouldn't distract himself from his work.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Oh, right, I'm bothering you," he said sarcastically.

"Yes, you are," Wufei agreed, tearing himself from his computer to pick up the file sitting next to the keyboard. "What do you want, Maxwell?"

The brunette tilted his head and pondered the question with mock thoughtfulness. Then he grinned, smirking at the Chinese man. "You."

Wufei looked up slowly from the papers in his hands to Duo's expression of forced seriousness. He couldn't have heard correctly, which was why he was having trouble breathing. "What…?"

"Oh, come on, Wu-man!" Duo exclaimed, straightening up and gaining another two inches in height. His white dress shirt and his purple tie were suddenly visible, seeming to glow in the faint brightness of the emergency lights period. "The gang's meeting for dinner after work. Then we're going to do karaoke, and go clubbing, and I'm gonna _make_ Heero dance, goddamnit—"

Wufei's heart started beating again. "The gang?" he interrupted calmly.

Duo frowned. "You know, me, Heero, Trowa, Q-man…" He raised an eyebrow at the man before him. "You…?"

"I can't, I'm busy," Wufei said again, curtly, opening another file.

The light in Duo's eyes dimmed as amethyst orbs narrowed. "You're _always_ busy, Fei. You're gonna work yourself to death."

Wufei grunted in acknowledgement. "My name's Wufei, as you well know," he said pointedly.

"Fei's close enough," the former Deathscythe pilot said dismissively. "That's not the issue here, and you know it."

Wufei remained silent.

Duo took a deep breath, knowing he was about to start up an old argument. "Look, Fei, can't you take a break? I mean, take a look around. There's no one here but you," he tried coaxingly. "Take a night off—"

"You're here," Wufei said.

"But I'm not working."

"Maybe you should be."

"Wufei!" Duo snapped, quickly losing patience. "Take some time off! Work isn't everything! Spend some time with your friends!"

"I see you and Yuy at work everyday," Wufei said tightly. All three of them were Preventers.

"Oh, yes," replied Duo sweetly, "I'm just exhausted from the socializing involved in telling you Lady Une wants to see you in her office. Be realistic, Fei, you're worse than Heero!"

"I am not!" Wufei retorted heatedly, finally glaring at the brunette.

"Yes, you are," Duo argued, taking something seriously for one of the few times in his life. "At least Ice Man's coming with us tonight. And you haven't laid eyes on Quat and Trowa in months!" He moved around the partition into Wufei's cubicle with a menacing aura Wufei hadn't felt in quite some time.

"They've been busy," the Asian said resentfully as he swiveled his chair around to face him.

"No, _you've_ been too busy." Amethyst eyes found obsidian and held them. "That's _your_ traditional excuse."

"It's not an excuse!" Wufei spat. "I have work that needs to be done; it's unavoidable. Now do you—"

"Have you taken a good look at yourself lately, Wufei?" Duo breathed with quiet anger, voice hard and clear in the otherwise silent room. "You're exhausted. Your sleeping schedule sucks. You have bags under your eyes." He brushed a thumb gently against the skin below Wufei's left eye.

Wufei jerked away, his chair slamming into the desk behind him, jaw clenching.

Something flickered briefly in Duo's eyes, but the braided man didn't give his co-worker the chance to say anything. "You're not eating breakfast or lunch anymore. Don't ask me how I know; I just do. And you'll need glasses for more then just reading by the time you're twenty-five if you don't put a little space between your nose and that computer screen."

Wufei looked like he was counting to five-hundred. In Chinese. "Maxwell—"

"We're just worried about you, dammit!" Duo exploded, throwing his hands in the air. "You're not taking care of yourself! It's as though you're doing everything you can to make yourself drop dead from exhaustion. If there's something wrong then tell us, Wufei! That's what friends are for!"

Friends.

_It's not that easy,_ Wufei thought as he stared stoically at Duo's frustrated face. _I don't fully understand it myself. I just feel…useless. Because now that the war's over, I don't have a purpose anymore. My life lacks directions. So I work._

"Wufei?"

_But you and the others, even Heero, don't seem to have that problem, so how could you possibly understand?_ He let his eyes drop to the carpeted floor.

"Wufei, are you okay?" The brunette's eyes were filled with worry and concern, and Wufei couldn't stand it. He turned away. _I feel like a failure. Working helps me forget, gives me something to do. I'm so depressed; I should be on Prozac or something._

"I'm not going, Maxwell," the ex-Shenlong pilot said softly.

There was a rustle of cloth as the other man shifted behind him, probably crossing his arms. "Wufei—"

"You're not going to change my mind, Maxwell. I'm finishing this report and then going home."

Silence descended on them both but Wufei could feel Duo's eyes burning into his back. He did _not_ need the extra stress.

"Are you going to stand there all night, or do you have people to meet?" The Asian lashed out a little more sharply than he intended.

He bit his lip as Duo wordlessly spun on his heel and made his way to the door without once looking back. The door slammed shut with a bang that left the wooden panel trembling. He was gone.

_I don't need him_, Wufei thought derisively, watching the hallway door with angry eyes.

But then why did he feel like he'd just missed his last chance at something?

XxXxXxXxX

Quatre, Trowa, and Heero watched Duo storm across the lobby of the Preventer's Headquarters, then exchanged glances.

"Um, Duo—" Quatre began.

"Fucking bastard…" Duo muttered under his breath as he brushed past them, various other obscenities that this authoress refuses to type now that her point has been made tumbling from his mouth.

Quatre gave Trowa a worried look and hurried after his friend. "Duo! Wait!"

It was a short walk to their vehicles and it didn't take long for Trowa and Heero to catch up to where the blond was trying to talk sensibly with Duo. The ring on the blond's left hand caught the light, making Trowa look instinctively at the matching one on his own left ring finger. Almost a year now.

"He's not coming, Quatre. He's obviously not interested," Duo was saying, his breath creating plumes of frigid air with every word. "Just forget him."

"You don't really mean that, Duo," Quatre said reproachfully. "You're just upset. Wufei—"

"No, I really mean it this time," Duo replied furiously, opening his car door. "His work is so much more important."

"Well, maybe he has other plans, or he really does need to get that done…"

"Oh, don't be so naïve, Q. You're not really that—"

"_Duo_." Trowa interjected warningly.

The American fumed silently, gnawing on his lower lip to keep himself from saying anything he might regret. He turned to Heero instead, pointing a finger commandingly. "Next time, _you_ are going up there and bringing him down. At gunpoint if necessary. I don't care what the emaciated moron says."

"Hn," Heero said, looking as though he was seriously contemplating doing just that.

"'Emaciated'?" Quatre questioned, eyes darting from Duo to Heero. "Has he lost that much weight?"

"A bit," Heero grunted.

"A bit'?" Duo snorted, staring at the Arabian. "Please, all he probably eats is rice for dinner and his fucking herbal teas all day long. It's a wonder he doesn't look anorexic yet."

"That's true," Heero admitted quietly.

Quatre frowned at Trowa, looking confused and uneasy. "I should have gone up to see him. I don't understand what's wrong…"

Duo climbed moodily into his car and yanked the door shut. He crossed his arms and glared out the windshield at nothing in particular.

Trowa placed a hand on the blond's shoulder. "We should go," he said softly. "There will be other times."

"Maybe we should invite his over for dinner tomorrow…" Quatre mused as the green-eyed man led him away. "Maybe lunch on Saturday…?"

Heero shook his head and opened his own car door; he'd parked right next to the infuriated American. _I'll talk to Wufei tomorrow. This is going way too far._

He hated seeing Duo hurt and angry, simply because the Chinese man couldn't see what was right in front of him. Or, well, just beyond his paperwork. It didn't take a genius to see that Duo's attitude toward the other man had shifted since their younger days; all three of them except Duo and Wufei had noticed how Duo now spent _all_ of his free time talking to/teasing/harassing Wufei. Trying to get him to go places, or in the others' opinion, asking him on dates. Duo didn't appear to comprehend the extent to which he was trying to get Wufei's attention, or why every dismissal or rejection emotionally burned him.

But at least he acknowledged that _something_ was changing.

Unlike a certain workaholic Chinese man.

Heero pulled into the street after Duo, keeping an eye on the single light on in the Preventer's Headquarters until it disappeared from his rearview mirror, second thoughts creeping into his mind like a plague. _Tomorrow. I'll do it tomorrow._

XxXxXxXxXxX

Wufei's office was quiet as a grave as he stood up from his desk. The report was finished, his computer shutting down, and his eyes could hardly keep themselves open. Of course, one report had led to another, and another, and more related paperwork…

Wearily, he scooped the last of his papers off his desk and into a folder. He hesitated. _Do I really need this?_

He frowned, struggling with himself. He despised the idea of going home to an empty apartment with nothing to do. The emptiness there drove him crazy, made him search for something to do to occupy his mind. Sometimes he just walked around the city, trying not to get nostalgic of how things used to be; thinking of past missions and Shenlong…the safehouses…_doing_ something to directly help people…short moments of "normalcy" with the other gundam pilots… During the war he'd wished those moments could've lasted forever, but now that he had to have a normal life, he had no idea how to go about it. How do you shift into a life you've had no experience living?

Wufei brushed a hand over his face, dragging himself away from those thoughts. He really wasn't in any shape to look anything else over, but…

_'Take some time off! Work isn't everything!'_

The Asian glanced at the clock over the door Duo had slammed nearly three hours ago. Quarter of twelve. He'd be back in six and a half hours anyway.

He threw the folder into a drawer and pulled on his black leather jacket. Next, he snatched his computer bag from the desk and headed for the door. A quick flick of the wrist and the lights went off as he exited the room of cubicles.

The hallway to the stairs was eerily dark, his footsteps echoing against the tile flooring. The shadowy entrance to the stairs loomed ahead, some subconscience urge demanding Wufei leave the building as quickly as possible.

_I practically live here…_Wufei thought dispiritedly, skimming his free hand along the banister on his left as he descended the stairs. For a brief moment the darkness blurred together, the concepts of distance and depth vanishing as the railing, stairs, and walls faded to black. He blinked rapidly, nearly tripping over his own feet when he misjudged the distance to the next stair. _Maybe that baka's right…I should take tomorrow off._

Brushing his fingers under his eyes, he could feel the slightly puffy skin there. He couldn't really say what he looked like; it had been too long since he'd taken the time to look in a mirror. _Do I really look that bad?_

Wufei snorted. _As though that idiot would know the difference between hard work and overworking._

But…Duo had been coming by more often. Wufei hadn't missed the concern behind the brunette's bright eyes and biting comments. He was obviously worried, but didn't quite know how to express it.

And Heero too…unlike the American, he didn't say much, but Wufei could feel the Japanese man's eyes watching him during the day. He always looked so serious with a permanent frown as he watched Duo harass him. No doubt Heero noticed the way he tensed up every time the violet-eyed man approached him, but Wufei couldn't help it; the brunette always wanted something from him, wanting to do something, to have lunch, see a movie—

A sudden, sharp pain blossomed in the center of his chest, catching him completely by surprise and forcing him to halt just above the last flight of stairs to the lobby. Wufei grabbed the front of his jacket by instinct as though he could touch the pain and make it disappear, staring down at the dark fabric in complete bewilderment. He was abruptly aware of the cold; the heat had shut off hours ago…

He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing in a vain attempt to ease the pain, but it didn't help, instead slowly radiating into his left shoulder and down his arm. The computer bag fell from his hand as he reached for the offending limb; his brain started screaming at him, the lack of sound smothered—

Then everything closed in on him and he was suffocating from some invisible force, his own body betraying him when he needed its help the most, and an answer forced its way to the forefront of his consciousness.

Heart attack.

_You've got to be kidding me,_ Wufei thought incredulously while he fought for breath, growing nauseous. He fumbled for the cell phone in his pocket, flipped it open, and the pain didn't go away; it just intensified. His thumb hit a speed dial number as Wufei let himself sink to his knees, fighting for every molecule of oxygen his lungs would take in.

Two.

_Answer the phone,_ the Asian found himself thinking as he listened to the phone ring from a million miles away. _Just answer it…_

Wufei struggled to focus on the pain in his arm and chest, his need for air, his mind drifting away while the phone continued to ring.

XxXxXxXxX

**Author's Note:** I realize that I am a terrible, horrible person to leave off here; you should have seen my beta reader: I HATE YOU MITSURU! Needless to say, I ran away and hid for a while. But Chapter Two has been written; just not posted. Review! Motivate me! In a non-violent way, of course. (sweatdrops).


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I, sadly, do not own Gundam Wing, it's characters, or anything else you might associate with the anime. Or Episode Zero. The only thing I own is an overactive imagination that won't shut up. And this concept, I guess. And I don't own the lyrics to Maroon 5's song either. The song title is rather obvious.

**Author's Note:** Here's chapter two! I'm working hard on chapter three, but I don't know how soon I can post it. You may have to wait a while. Please review! And since I've gotten so many responses in such a short amount of time, I've decided to go ahead and post this chapter. Some of you have said you don't remember anything beyond this chapter. There's a good reaon for that. I never posted chapter three before I had to tear everything down. But that won't happen this time! It shall be posted! So go enjoy this chapter with a lighter heart.

XxXxXxXx

Chapter Two

XxXxXxXx

Quatre yawned and snuggled into Trowa's side as the four of them exited the movie theater. "I didn't like that movie," he announced.

"I could tell," Trowa said, smiling at him.

"What are you talking about?" Duo protested, grinning cheekily. "I loved that movie! It was awesome!"

"But did he have to use a _chainsaw_?" The blond asked, looking queasy.

"Stupid weapon for a massacre," Heero agreed solemnly. "Much too messy."

"That part was kinda gross," Duo admitted, shivering from more than just the cold air. "Eww…the nightmares that'll follow…"

Quatre frowned, feeling a different kind of chill. "Do we have everything? We didn't leave anything in the theater, did we?"

Trowa shook his head, wrapping his arm around him. "Is something wrong?"

Quatre looked away. "Something doesn't feel right," he said simply. "Maybe I'm just tired."

"Maybe," Trowa said, looking thoughtfully unconvinced.

"Remind me why we saw that movie again?" Duo asked no one in particular as they walked back to their vehicles.

"Because by the time we got here you were so angry you wanted to see something gory and violent," Heero reminded him calmly.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Against majority rule, by the way," Trowa added.

The American rolled his eyes. "Hey, it's not my fault you guys can't handle—"

"Is something ringing?"

They all turned to stare at Quatre, nonplussed.

"What?" Duo asked, blinking.

"Do you have your cell phone? I think it's ringing." The blond said uneasily, biting his lip.

Duo shook his head, his braid swinging back and forth. "Nope. I left in the car this time."

"Well—"

"Remember how they kicked me out last time cuz it went off five times during the movie? Stupid people. It's not my fault I'm popular!"

"Well, someone's calling you, Duo."

Duo looked at his friend with an expression akin to awe normally reserved for superheros and tarot card readers. "Whoa…you really are psychic, Q!"

"No," Quatre said, smiling. "I can hear it." He pointed to Duo's car parked five feet away.

Heero turned away, trying not to roll his eyes. "You have the volume up that loud?"

"I saw that," Duo told him grumpily ignoring Heero's question as he unlocked his car door.

"_This love has taken its toll on me—"_

"Hello?" Duo asked, slightly miffed, after flipping his phone open without even bothering to glance at the screen.

_Who'd be calling me at five minutes to midnight?_

He didn't hear anything, no static, no dial tone, nothing, so _someone_ had to be on the other end.

"Hello?" he repeated, wondering who the hell was on the other end of the line.

Heero, Trowa, and Quatre were all quietly watching him, the latter with an anxious expression.

"Ya know, if you're gonna call someone—"

"Duo…?" A voice asked so quietly Duo wondered if he'd even heard it, because the voice was unrecognizable with its lack of volume.

The brunette paused for a quarter of a second. "That would be me," he agreed.

Just the sound of breathing, not very regular; short and erratic.

"Who's this?" The American asked, confused.

No response.

He frowned momentarily, exchanging uneasy glances with Quatre.

_Did I lose the connection?_

"Hello?"

"Duo…?" Forced out on an exhaled breath.

Duo turned the phone over to read the number on his screen, blinked to see a name visible under the closest streetlight. There were only four people whose names showed up when they called, and three of them were currently staring at him.

_Chang Wufei._

"Wufei?!" Duo exclaimed in alarm, feeling all his senses heighten and go on the alert.

_Why didn't I recognize the ringtone?_

A heavy weight settled on the air as everyone tensed at Wufei's name. Wufei calling Duo at midnight? That was unheard of.

_Because he never calls me…_

"Wufei? What's going on?"

Nothing. Nothing but ragged breathing—

"Goddammit, Wufei, answer me!" Even he could hear the bewildered panic in his voice now.

"Duo…"

"Yeah, alright, I—"

"…need…help…"

And for a moment he went completely cold and everything, in complete obedience to Duo's feelings and just to spite the laws of physics, stopped.

Okay.

He didn't quite remember throwing himself in the vehicle, but then he was revving the engine, squealing out of the parking lot like the place was going to explode in three seconds, and who needed a fucking seatbelt when _Wufei_ of all people was asking _him_ for help?

Certainly not Duo Maxwell.

"Where the hell are you?" Duo questioned, surprising himself with how in control he sounded. "Never mind; you're still at work, aren't you?"

"…"

"Idiot."

Three minutes later he was skidding into the Preventers parking lot (everyone knows red lights and stop signs only matter when other people are around) and sure enough, Wufei's car was still there.

Duo cursed under his breath, wrenched open the car door, and sprinted to the front of the building. "Fei, you still here?"

Well, he could still still hear the sound of halting, raspy breathing at least. That had to count for something.

He slammed through the front doors and towards the stairs. Was he still in his office?

Briefly, he paused to turn on the lights. And froze.

Wufei was crouched on the steps with his knees pulled up to his chest, one hand clutching his shirt, the other precariously holding an open cell phone.

"Wufei?!"

_There are way too many steps here,_ Duo thought, throwing himself up the staircase. Honestly, this was ridiculous. What if this happened to someone else? He'd have to talk to Lady Une about this.

Duo grabbed Wufei by the shoulders, trying hard not to panic and to meet the other man's eyes. Fear uncurled steadily in his stomach, spreading outwards like a spider's web. "Wufei, what—"

The Asian tugged sharply on his shirt, dropping the phone where it clattered down a couple stairs before spinning to a stop. "…tack…"

"Tack?" Duo repeated, baffled, his eyes sweeping over Wufei's pale, drawn face. "Tack? A tack? What is that supposed to—oh, not a whole word, got it…" The brunette forced his mind to focus, tried to keep it from shrieking and running around in circles the way it wanted to. "Tack? Tack…? I don't—"

Wufei's face contorted in pain and a flicker of frustration and fear flashed across his features.

"Oh, _uh_-tack! Attack…" The American's brain ground into overdrive as he thought of every possible "attack". Chances were it had nothing to do with asthma.

_Pale face, erratic breathing, hand over heart—_

"Aw, shit, Wufei! How the _hell_--?!" Duo panicked, finally letting go of the other man. He made a split second decision, slid an arm under his knees and around his waist, and hauled him off the stairs. "There's no way you'd make it down these stairs on your own, buddy."

Wufei didn't even bother to show or voice his indignation. His lack of dignity was not his greatest concern at the moment.

Duo turned and retraced his steps back down the stairs, ignoring Wufei's abandoned bag and phone. Sprinting through the lobby wasn't nearly as difficult as he'd thought it would be since Wufei was several pounds lighter than he looked. Which only increased his worry.

The brunette kicked open the front doors with unnecessary force. _Freaking asshole,_ Duo ranted to himself, almost running into Quatre on the other side of the door. _Told him this would happen someday, didn't I? Didn't I?_

Quatre's face was tense and scared. "Duo, what--?"

"Grab his stuff; staircase; keys in my ignition," Duo said shortly, already taking off in the direction of Trowa's car idling twenty feet away.

The blond vanished inside without any more questions as Heero appeared in the back of Trowa's car, opening the door for them. As soon as the door closed Trowa hit the accelerator.

"Heart attack?" He guessed, watching Wufei critically. So much for that talk they were going to have.

Duo nodded. Wufei seemed to be breathing easier now.

"Trowa, watch—" Heero began sharply, but—

KA-BAM. THUD.

The whole vehicle rocked as the tires crashed into something solid, throwing the three passengers in the backseat into the seats in front of them.

"Trowa!" Duo snarled, pulling Wufei protectively into his lap. Crazy driver. Was he trying to get them all killed?!

"Sorry, didn't see that curb," Trowa said coolly as the vehicle practically flew down the road. "I never did like the way they built that parking lot. This way is so much shorter…"

The Japanese man was examining Wufei's face. "He's unconscious."

"Is that bad?" Duo asked tensely.

Heero shrugged. "Most life-threatening consequences occur within seventy-two hours after the attack. We'll just have to keep an eye on him."

Duo scowled at him. Way to make a guy feel better. "Where's your car, Heero?"

"Back at the theater," Heero responded while their silent driver sped through two red lights and an empty intersection. "I'll get it later."

"But what if gets towed?"

Heero glanced at Duo. "I'll charge Wufei for the fees."

"How the freaking hell does a twenty two year old have a heart attack? Doesn't that happen to people in their forties?" Duo exploded, looking like he wanted to hit something. Or someone. Probably Wufei.

The green-eyed man looked at Duo in the rearview mirror. "Hypertension," he explained quietly.

"Huh?"

"High blood pressure, high stress levels…" Heero elaborated. "Wufei probably doesn't do anything to relax at home anymore. Just more work."

"So he has Yuy Syndrome, then?" The American said snidely, his, well, emotion closely related but not quite fear, for Wufei overriding the close watch he normally kept on his tongue.

Prussian blue eyes glared at him.

"Heero's not as bad as he used to be," Trowa protested softly, an amused expression tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But Wufei just seems to have gotten worse. He seems…lost."

"Lost? About what?" Duo wanted to know.

_About what to do with himself now that the war's over,_ Trowa thought seriously. _And that's a deadly trap to fall into._

"We're here," he said instead, screeching to a halt in front of the hospital's emergency entrance.

Duo was already out and halfway to the open doors before Trowa turned off the ignition.

But Duo absolutely _hated_ the idea of handing the passive figure in his arms to strangers. However, the braided man wasn't a qualified medical professional and had to be persuaded by both his friends and the hospital staff that Wufei would be fine in the care of physicians.

Personally, Trowa and Heero didn't like the idea either, but they didn't exactly have any way to help Wufei themselves and they knew it.

Quatre's husband placed a gentle hand on Duo's shoulder in quiet comfort.

_This is probably hardest on you, Duo, because Wufei has never noticed how you feel…and you try so hard to help him. Heero always keeps Quatre and I up to date with what's happening with you two. But this isn't your fault. There wasn't anything you could have done short of force or kidnapping, which I doubt would have improved the situation any._

The three of them stood stoically as a horde of doctors and nurses wheeled Wufei away, followed by an army of mobile machinery and violet eyes.

Yet each man was thinking the same thing in his own way. _Did it have to be this way? Was there anything_ _at all I could have done? Could I have done more? What if…?_

What if he had a second chance?

XxXxXxXx

**Author's Note:** I've decided to try and post this every Thursday, once a week. I posted chapter one on a Thursday, so...actually, that's my only reasoning. Lol. Sorry. Should give me some time to type up the other chapters. This story shouldn't be taking this long, and I completely fail at making deadlines, but I will try. Support me and review! Tell me what you think, and if you have any ideas, let me know! Thank you for sticking with me; I had to re-write parts of this chapter, not a lot, but my beta reader lost the last few pages of the next chapter so it'll take me a while to post it. Review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gundam Wing. Sadly. Although I'm pretty sure my life would be a little bit easier if I did.

**Author's Note: **I was looking over my story...and I don't think I posted anything past chapter two. And that's terrible. I can't believe I did that, because that's just wrong. So here's chapter three, and I'm already farther than I was last time! How...sad.

Whoa...I updated. I'm going to make sure I'm not dreaming now.

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Chapter 3

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"How long are you going to lay there, Chang Wufei?"

As though the woman's voice had woken him from a deep sleep, Wufei's eyes fluttered open with the speed of a glacier in December. But even when they finally opened, he _still_ couldn't see anything.

"Get up, Wufei. We don't have all night."

_Who are you?_

"Your conscience." The voice was definitely sarcastic. "Now move."

Wufei felt his face crinkle in annoyance as he sat up, feeling the textured cloth of his bed sheets rustle under his fingers.

_Bed sheets...I'm in a bed somewhere...I don't remember what happened--_

"You're in a hospital."

_How did I--?_

"They brought you here after your heart attack."

Brief flashes of colors whispered through his mind; three familiar faces.

_But who--_

"You called..." she paused, searching for the right name rather than just offering a description. "Maxwell," she said finally. "Maxwell Duo. He came for you."

_It's _Duo_ Maxwell, _Wufei snapped irritably. _And stop answering my unasked questions; it's creepy._ He ran a hand over the hospital's sheets, feeling for the edge of the bed. _Why can't I see?_

"Because you think you're dead."

The Chinese man frowned at an answer that didn't really answer anything, his sightless eyes darting around as he violently smothered the sudden prick of fear in his stomach. _I _think _I'm dead? So I'm not?_

"Not yet."

Wufei bit the inside of his cheek to keep in a sharp retort. _What's that supposed to mean?_

"You wouldn't understand. Not now, anyway." Contempt and arrogance laced her words, making her disdain for him blatantly obvious.

Wufei scowled, cursing his unseeing eyes to the seven hells and back. _Don't play games with me, woman!_

Almost instantly his sight shifted and he could discern shadows, although everything was in shades of gray. A pair of hands reached out, grabbed him by the shoulders, and proceeded to drag him off the bed. "_I'm_ not the one playing games here," she said quietly, voice hard.

_Hey, get off!_

He stumbled to his feet, knees almost buckling, feeling firm hands on his upper arms to help him keep his balance. His sight cleared rapidly as his brain realized he was in fact not dead and had no control whatsoever over his current situation and hurriedly tried to make up for its mistake. Wufei had the sudden urge to smack this woman. Who did she think she was?

_Are you saying _I'm _playing games?_

"Life is not a toy, Wufei. Very few people get more than one. Anyone who treats their health the way you treated yours is a fool." Tone sharp and reprimanding, angry, she pinned him with a glare that could have fried the retinas of a lesser man. As it was, Wufei just glared back. "What kind of man _are_ you?"

He had every intention of snapping back at her, something derogatory, completely unhelpful, and probably slightly sexist when his eyes were drawn to the bed he had supposedly just vacated. Except that it was still occupied. By Chang Wufei.

Wufei stared in fascinated shock at the still figure lying on the bed, which was hooked up to sensors, which were connected to monitors, which relayed his heartbeat and brainwaves. The only light in the room was from the soft glow of the emergency lights, making the white hospital linens and his features appear even more pale than usual. His eyes were closed. The only movement in the otherwise empty room was the gentle rising and falling of his double's chest. The shirt he'd been wearing had disappeared, most likely removed by the doctors or nurses that set up the flickering technology by his bedside.

Wufei whirled around accusingly, glaring fire at the slightly shorter woman behind him. _What's going on?!_

She stared at him without an answer, refusing to repeat anything she'd already told him and making him figure it out for himself.

Now that he took a good look at her, she looked vaguely familiar to him for some reason. But she was obviously older than he was, with posture that screamed a demand for respect and belied a fiercely independent spirit. Her hair brushed her shoulders and she wore it down, unlike Wufei. She was dressed in a red traditional Chinese long-sleeved blouse and black slacks, with the same dark martial artist's shoes he wore. Maybe a ...deceased family member? She did look a little like a cousin on his mother's side he'd grown up with. Then again, nearly everyone on L5, if not related, at least knew each other. Just the thought of family brought a little pang of nostalgia that he beat viciously into submission in a dark corner of his mind.

Wufei looked away, gazing at his own silent form only three feet away from him. _I look like I'm sleeping...a coma then?_

"A semi-coma," she corrected him.

_Semi-coma?_

"Well, if you were in a full-fledged one, you wouldn't be here, would you?"

Wufei met her eyes in annoyance. _Do you have a name? Because you're bothersome enough as it is without one._

"As bothersome as Maxwell?" she asked, ignoring his rudeness.

He frowned. _You're a bit more of a pain than him right now. And what does he have to do with anything?_

She watched him closely, tapping her fingers on her crossed arms. "The concept of names is unnecessary. But you may call me Yiku, since your human nature has a primitive instinct for labeling things."

Wufei felt his eyes narrow. _You're avoiding the question!_

She glared at him haughtily. "You asked me, rather obnoxiously I might add, for a name and I gave you one. Now stop complaining."

_Woman--!_

"We don't have time for this childishness, Wufei." Yiku declared authoritatively. "There are some things I need to show you."

Wufei eyed her distrustfully, liking his situation less and less. _Why does this feel like that ridiculous story Maxwell is so fond of? A Christmas Carol?_

"Because you're an old Scrooge," she snapped. "And someone needs to knock some sense into your ignorant brain." She placed a hand on his arm before he could respond. "Let's go."

Immediately the room dissolved around him, shapes and colors blurring into one unidentifiable mass. Then there was a brief sensation of floating, of going absolutely nowhere, before he found himself standing beside a chair across from three exhausted people in the downstairs waiting room.

_How did you do that?_ Wufei asked, half interested despite himself. _Are you dead too?_

"First of all, you're not dead," her voice told him from his left. "And second of all, that's none of your business."

Wufei smirked, sinking into a chair. Apparently that subject was as touchy as a woman's age.

They were sitting across from Trowa, Quatre, and Duo in a hard, dark blue plastic chair. They were not the least bit comfortable.

Quatre was asleep, his head resting on Trowa's shoulder. The clock above him read one-fifteen.

His husband flipped quietly through a magazine, regarding each page dispassionately as though it wasn't really there. He looked exhausted.

Duo sat on Trowa's other side, slouched in his chair, his skull pressed against the wall so he was staring at the ceiling. His violet eyes were only half open; he was eerily quiet. Trowa glanced at him, but didn't say anything.

"What?" Duo asked, sensing Trowa's eyes on him but ignoring it, continuing his staring match with the ceiling instead. He was winning. Really, he was.

"Why don't you go home, Duo?" Trowa suggested softly, closing his magazine with a soft _whoosh!_ of the pages. "You have work tomorrow...or later today, I suppose you could say."

"'M okay," Duo insisted, stifling a yawn and turning his head stiffly to look at Quatre's human pillow. "'Sides, you and Quat have work too, right?"

Trowa shook his head. "We're taking tomorrow off."

"Quat's taking a day off?"

"He doesn't know it yet."

"Ah, I see." Duo rubbed his eyes. "I know an idiot who should have taken a day off. Or two. Or twelve."

Wufei narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Trowa just inclined his head.

"Now look at him." Duo shook his head with a hint of resignation on his face. "Gone off and killed himself."

_I'm not dead, you idiot. _Wufei thought, trying to reign in the small spark of anger that blossomed spontaneously in his chest.

"They can't hear you," Yiku informed him blandly.

"Wufei's not going to die, Duo," Trowa said patiently in a way that made Wufei think he'd been telling the American that repeatedly for quite some time now.

"No, he'll just be paralyzed for life, or need a pacemaker, or be a vegetable forever..."

_He's being overdramatic._ Wufei rolled his eyes.

"He's worrying," Yiku disagreed quietly. "And he's not exaggerating as much as you'd like to think."

"This is Wufei you're talking about," Quatre interrupted without opening his eyes or shifting position, his voice slightly breathy with sleep. Trowa threw him an affectionate glance.

"Quat! I thought you were sleeping?"

"I was."

"Oh. Sorry 'bout that."

"Hmmmm..." The blond opened his eyes blearily and sat up, stretching. His eyes focused on the chairs in front of him occupied by Wufei and Yiku. He paused, blue eyes flickering from chair to supposedly empty chair.

_Can he see us?_ Wufei wondered, a little surprised.

"No," Yiku said firmly, but looking intrigued just the same. "But he might sense us. Does he have a strong sixth sense?"

_I don't know,_ Wufei admitted. _But sometimes he says he senses...emotions..._

Yiku nodded. "Maybe he feels your exasperation with Maxwell."

_I'm not exasperated with Maxwell!_ Wufei snapped, giving Yiku a dirty look.

Quatre finally looked away, frowning to himself. "Where's Heero?"

"Went to get his car before it gets towed," Duo said, tugging on his braid. "Thanks for bringing mine by the way, Q-man."

"Sure," Quatre shrugged. "Will Wufei's car be okay?"

"Probably," Trowa replied serenely.

"The tow-truck guy probably has his license plate memorized," Duo snorted.

"I think he's right," Yiku smirked, fighting a smile.

_Shut up,_ Wufei said disgruntledly.

"I'm hungry," Duo decided, his spine cracking as he unfolded himself from his chair. "Ow. Anyone want anything?"

"No thank you, Duo," Quatre said. "Trowa?"

"I'm fine."

"Alrighty then," Duo said with mock sternness, shaking a finger at them. "Don't complain when hunger strikes thirty minutes from now. Cuz I'll have already made my trip to the vending machine."

"Yes, mother," Quatre said straight-faced.

"And brought half of it back with you," Trowa deadpanned.

"That's right, and it'll all be _mine_," Duo proclaimed, grinning tiredly. "I'll be back."

"Without the whole crashing cars into police stations bit, right?" Quatre teased.

"Nah, I think we've got too many unconscious people in the hospital already," Duo said breezily, turning away.

Wufei caught the undercurrent of anxiety and uncertainty in violet orbs as Duo passed by, exhaling gustily while he made his way to the solitary vending machine on the other side of the room. Quatre watched the American too, his own brand of concern clearly visible.

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

"Duo?" Trowa asked. "Or Wufei?"

"Well...Duo," Quatre decided.

"For now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…if Wufei heals but nothing changes..."

"..." Quatre smiled wearily at Trowa. "True."

"We'll just keep an eye on him," Trowa said calmly, lacing his fingers with the Arabian's.

Quatre squeezed his fingers. "Who?"

"Both of them, I suppose." Trowa looked at his husband, who hid a smile behind his other hand.

Wufei turned to Yiku, glancing at Duo over his shoulder. The braided man was still staring blankly at the vending machine as though he'd forgotten how to work it. _Was I supposed to learn something here? Because I think a lot of this just went over my head._

"Men…" Yiku muttered under her breath.

_This isn't going to get all emotional, touchy-feely, is it? Seeing feelings and such? Because I can tell you right now—_

"Wufei," Yiku began, cutting him off. "I can't force you to see something you're not willing to acknowledge. Everything I show you, all of it depends on how you choose to interpret it."

_So no pressure, right?_

She gave him a disgusted look. "With that attitude, it's no wonder you've ended up in this situation in the first place. And talk like a normal person; you'll give yourself a migraine."

He glared at Yiku, lips turning up in a sneer. _My so-called "attitude" has nothing to do with my current situation. And what does it matter how I communicate with you?_

"That's true," she agreed with false pleasantness. "You've always been a stuck up, pathetic excuse for a man. And so you know, your brain is using extra energy to communicate 'telepathically'. Speaking normally, or at least acting as though you are, allows it to fall back on a familiar pattern into a more relaxed state."

Wufei snorted. "Whatever. As though a woman like you would know anything about men's work."

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

His eyes narrowed. "You're trying my patience, woman. Aren't you supposed to be showing me how miserable my life is going to be, or something to that extent?"

Yiku stood abruptly and tossed her hair regally over her shoulder, giving Wufei a cold, appraising stare. "You're right. Trying to talk sense with you is getting us nowhere, and we have things to do. Stand up."

Wufei gave her a defiant glare at the command, intentionally not moving and crossing his arms. He'd be damned if he let this woman push him around.

She gave him a smirk he decided he didn't like one bit. Her hand flew forward to land on his shoulder before he could change his mind about his decision to remain seated, his surroundings blurring almost instantly. "Very well. Let's get something to eat, shall we?"

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**Author's Note:** Omg, I just updated. I'm in shock. My beta (or me, I'm not sure anymore) lost more pages than I thought and I ended up having to re-write a LOT, which depressed me and made me put it off for longer than I should have. Then I moved, my rent doubled, the economy sucks, I have no job, and practically no one's hiring. Freaking A. And so I write. And you can all thank the amazingly awesome official art for Gundam Wing for inspiring me to finish this chapter. I think I actually like it better than my first draft, although it's a bit shorter. Tell me what you think! Next update will not take over two months, since the pages for chapter four are NOT lost. XDXD.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gundam Wing. Sadly. Although I'm pretty sure my life would be a little bit easier if I did.

**Author's Note: **OMG, chapter four is up! Wow. Absolutely shocking. And I've decided this will only be about ten chapters and an epilogue. I've got all the chapters outlined and everything, but I would like to hear your thoughts on the matter. If you have any suggestions or anything, just send me a quick note in a review, and if I can't put it in this story, I may be able to fit it into another one. So let me what you think of this chapter and REVIEW!!

I tried to upload this yesterday, but our _favorite _fanfic site wouldn't let me. But at least it was cooperating today, albeit very slowly. So, enjoy.

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Chapter 4

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The restaurant was noisy and crowded, full of various people on their lunch break. Snatches of conversations and the clatter of silverware flowed around him, making him want to cover his ears at the sheer volume of it all. And he realized why Yiku had told him to stand before…teleporting….them somewhere. He was still in a seated position while he tried to back away from the sudden influx of movement and sound, but now there was no chair to support him. Wufei collapsed backward as soon as he made contact with solid ground, wildly grasping hands latching onto Yiku's arm, feet backpedaling over her shoes as he struggled against gravity to right himself.

"That's my foot," Yiku's irritated voice came from behind him. Her other foot connected soundly with the back of his calf.

Immediately, Wufei moved the offending shoe and scowled at her. "You didn't have to kick me!"

"You didn't have to step on me," Yiku retorted, eyeing her change with a frown. "You don't get out very often do you, Wufei?"

Wufei surveyed the restaurant carefully, taking note of the front entrance, two emergency exits, the hostess' station and the kitchen. "I don't like crowded places," he grumbled finally, turning to look at the windows behind him.

Yiku rolled her eyes. "You're an anti-social nerd, is what you are."

Wufei ignored her with the air of someone well-experienced in ignoring persistent pests. He stared perplexedly at the windows, which were flooding the large eating area with sunlight.

_Sunlight?_

The last time he'd looked at a clock, it had been after one in the morning. There shouldn't be _sunlight_ at one a.m.

"I'm assuming we're not in Kansas anymore?" Wufei deadpanned, looking at Yiku.

She stared at him blankly. "We were never in Kansas," Yiku said slowly as though Wufei was losing his marbles.

"I was alluding to a movie," he said testily.

Yiku simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"Nevermind," Wufei snapped, crossing his arms belligerently. "Stupid Maxwell and his stupid movies. Where are we and what are we doing here?"

Wufei's guide decided to forgive him for his temporary insanity and gestured at the tables around them, filled with their chattering occupants. Interestingly enough, none of the diners noticed their presence. "We're in the past, Wufei. About a month ago, when you refused to take that invitation to lunch."

Wufei thought about it, but then decided he couldn't remember which rejected lunch invitation Yiku was referring to. "Right. And how did we get here?"

Turning to face him head on, a serious expression on her face, she answered, "I brought us here. This event relates to you, so it's not breaking any rules."

"Rules?" Wufei asked sourly.

"I can only show you events that either happened to you, or where something you did influenced someone else's actions or decisions."

"But time travel is just fine?"

"If it involves you, yes." Yiku said, disregarding his sarcasm.

"And how does this—?"

The Chinese woman nodded across the room at the opening front entrance. "Watch and listen."

Wufei scowled at her. What was this? A story book? Some children's fairy tale? And time travel? How ridiculous. What was he supposed to learn from this, exactly?

The open door swung closed behind a tall, violet-eyed man, about six-feet one. He was dressed in a high collared black dress shirt and matching slacks. No tie that could be seen, but that didn't mean it wasn't shoved into a pocket somewhere. A suit coat was thrown carelessly over his left arm.

"Duo? What does he have to do with anything?" Wufei asked in annoyance, turning to look accusingly at Yiku.

She held her chin up resolutely and ignored him, watching the brunet talking, or rather, flirting, with the lady at the hostess' station. Wufei rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply, glancing away and glaring at the floor. Hopeless romantic, that one.

Duo gave the hostess a mock two fingered military salute and a brilliant smile before making his way toward them, charming her eyes into following him the whole way.

It was strange to realize it now, but Duo had grown a lot since the end of the war. Since his fifteen year old height of five feet four inches, he'd endured several growth spurts, shooting up a grand total of nine inches. Trowa had gone through the same thing, although he was only two inches taller than the former Deathscythe pilot now. They all assumed it was the American in him. Heero had grown quite a bit as well, though not nearly as much as the other two. Quatre and Wufei had only gained a couple inches each, averaging out at about five feet seven inches for Wufei and Quatre with a half an inch more. Which still made them feel like dwarves next to Trowa and Duo.

Violet eyes were just as bright and lively as they'd been seven years ago, but he could no longer be mistaken for a girl, even with his long hair. The American's features had become more defined and masculine, finally making him look like then strong-willed man he was.

And surprisingly, Duo's newfound height and build hadn't affected his movement. He still moved with a certain flow that was just short of being called grace. But he retained his own charisma that drew you to him, and in return, he accepted you just the way you were.

Wufei couldn't stand it.

The past Duo came closer until Wufei was sure he was going to run into them. "Can he—"

"No," Yiku interrupted, "he can't see us. This has already happened and _you_ weren't here."

A whisper of air and the soft brush of hair as the other man passed by, stopping as he reached the table behind the two phantoms. Duo grinned at the blond and brunet waiting there, speaking in a language Wufei didn't catch right away.

It took a moment for Wufei to realize that he and Yiku had been speaking in Mandrin, and his ears were shifting from the Chinese language to English.

"Sorry about being late," Duo was saying, pulling out his chair, tossing his jacket over the top, and sitting down. "Our favorite Asian asshole wasn't cooperating."

Wufei frowned.

Quatre sighed. "And where's Heero?"

Wufei scowled as Yiku turned a sudden laugh into a coughing fit. They were talking about him?!

Duo picked up the menu and grimaced. "On a mission, 'member? Why do you always pick these hoidy-toidy places?"

"It's better than the fast food you usually eat," Trowa retorted calmly, motioning for a waitress.

"At least it's not this expensive," Duo frowned, flipping to the drink section. "I hate seeing you pay so much for a couple bites of food."

Wufei left Yiku's side and circled around behind Duo to look over his shoulder at the menu. Wow. Definitely under Quatre's budget, however. Didn't stop their eyebrows from rising to their respective hairlines though.

Quatre smiled at Duo across the table. "What's a couple dollars between friends?"

_Looks like more than a couple dollars,_ Wufei thought cynically, and the expression of Duo's face mirrored his thoughts exactly.

The waitress appeared helpfully at Trowa's side. "Are we ready to order, sirs?"

"Uh," Duo started.

"Yes," Trowa cut in. "We'll have the usual." He gestured to himself and Quatre. "What did you want, Duo?"

Duo sighed dramatically. "Actually, I think I'll just have a salad."

Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei all stared at him.

"What?" Duo asked defensively, looking alarmed at his friends' disbelieving reactions, violet eyes darting between Quatre and Trowa.

"A salad?" Quatre said once he'd regained his powers of speech, returning his eyes to the menu and making sure the restaurant did indeed sell such a thing, so he couldn't possibly have misheard Duo.

"That's all?" Trowa asked, the faint furrowing of his eyebrows the only betrayal of his surprise.

"_Vegetables?!"_ Wufei asked incredulously, looking at the American as though he had never seen the man before.

"Well…" Duo said, glancing apologetically at the waitress hovering nearby—the only person of the four who wasn't currently debating his mental state— "I'm not really that hungry right now…"

Trowa gave him an indecipherable look. He glanced at the blonde woman watching Duo with unnecessarily close attention, who was supposed to be taking their orders. "He hasn't decided yet," he said firmly.

The waitress quickly turned from Duo to Trowa. "Ah—yes," she agreed. "Shall I bring you your meals then, sirs?"

"No, just…we'll wait for Duo to make up his mind." Quatre gave the woman a bright smile. She smiled back at him, nodded, and left.

Yiku put her hands on her hips. "Is it really that unusual for that man to order a salad?" Her voice held a note of slight incredulity.

"For Maxwell? Yes." Wufei caught Trowa and Quatre sharing a troubled glance. "Order a dish consisting solely of health food? Not Maxwell. Something's wrong."

Duou remained suspiciously silent, examining the laminated paper list of foods and prices as though he'd never seen anything quite as fascinating. He knew perfectly well he was about to be assaulted by the Cherubic Look of Deep and Worried Concern, combined with Trowa's Mask of Stone and tendency to carry heavy firearms, Duo was officially going nowhere for a very long time.

Duo transferred his gaze to his fingers and began cleaning some imaginary dirt from under his fingernails.

Wufei observed the violet-eyed man with slight perplexity. Duo was obviously hiding something; he was good at that—edging around the truth without actually telling a lie, building invisible walls without anyone noticing, locking his true feeling behind fathomless amethyst eyes. Direct eye contact was the only way to get anything out of him, but if Duo wouldn't let you get close, you didn't have a chance of learning what you wanted to know. And despite his attempts to appear casual, tension gripped the brunet's shoulders. It took a moment before Wufei recognized Duo's natural physical response to his own anger.

Something must have happened before he arrived at the restaurant.

Wufei racked his brain, trying to recall his recent interactions with Duo. Yes, they'd been fighting more often than not lately, but relations between the two of them had never been smooth. That was relatively normal for them. So what else could have Duo so upset?

"Duo," Quatre began softly, eyeing his friend with a tentativeness many people found endearing. "What's bothering you?"

Duo arranged his expression with several layers of innocence. "Hmmm? Who said anything was bothering me?"

"You did," Trowa said, watching Duo with a sharp gaze. "Since when do you order salads?"

The braided man made a face at Trowa. "It was the cheapest thing they offered, okay? Jeeze…"

Quatre frowned reproachfully. "Ignore the prices. And don't change the subject. Did something happen at work?"

"Did what happen?" Duo asked evasively with polite interest, as though they were discussing a stranger's life.

"Something between you and 'our favorite Asian asshole'." Trowa said bluntly without any shift in expression. He ignored Quatre's eye daggers in his direction.

Wufei and Duo bristled for entirely different reasons.

Quatre sighed, playing with the straw in his water glass. "You argued again, didn't you? I told you that forcing him isn't going to work—"

"But he _won't listen_!" Duo snapped. "I don't know what the hell his problem is, but staying holed up in his office forever isn't going to solve anything!"

Wufei glared at him. "And what would you know about anything worth knowing?"

Yiku gave him a disdainful look. "Same goes for you."

He narrowed his eyes at his supposedly "helpful" guide.

"—going about this the wrong way," Quatre was continuing, leaning back in his chair. "Just talk to him. Even if it's about work—"

"That's all he does anyway!"

"—then that's fine," Quatre finished firmly. "You have to have patience, Duo! Maybe it's his work that's bothering him!"

Duo graced his friend with a look that plainly said he was re-evaluating the blond's sanity. "If he's working constantly, I seriously doubt it's bothering him," the American disagreed sardonically.

"If he's constantly working, he's running from something," Trowa said quietly, adding sugar to the coffee he'd ordered before Duo's arrival.

"So _talk to him!_" Quatre practically ordered Duo's confused face. "And I don't mean the shouting matches you two regularly engage in. That _is_ what happened, right?"

Uneasy eyes flickered briefly at Trowa before sliding away to the occupants of the table on his right. "Yeah."

"And?" Trowa inquired sharply.

Quatre looked at Trowa with questions in his eyes, then turned his expectant expression to the man across from him. Duo slowly raised his eyes back to hard jade ones. "'And'?"

Trowa's eyes narrowed. "Don't play games, Duo. What happened after that?"

Duo stared at him mutely, a familiar stubbornness making its way across his features.

Blue eyes gradually filled with worry, flitting from Trowa to Duo.

"I can call Une and find out, if you're not willing to give us the whole story," the former Heavyarms pilot stated coolly. "You can't expect our help if you won't be completely honest with us. Now what happened?"

Duo eyed Trowa guardedly, trying to gauge how high the likelihood of Trowa carrying out his threat was. Pretty high.

Realization hit Wufei like a block of gundanium. _That_ lunch. The invitation that ended in one of the most violent fights they'd ever had. The one where—

"I trashed his office."

Quatre and Trowa stared at the chesnut-haired man sitting uncomfortably on the other side of their table, a look of stunned shock on the blond's features, while the other's face simply went completely blank. "You _what_?" they asked simultaneously.

Duo shifted restlessly in his chair, still looking faintly irritated about what had occurred back at the office. "I trashed the place, okay? Well, not really, we both kinda did—"

"_Duo!_" Quatre gasped, bringing a hand to his chest.

"And what voice in your insane little mind persuaded you to do that?" Asked Trowa calmly, not looking the least bit surprised.

"Joe," Duo said promptly. "He's been getting pretty rowdy lately—"

"Duo."

The American scowled at Trowa and threw his hands in the air to show his ignorance. "It's not like I planned it; what do you want me to say?! He started it!"

"I did not!" Wufei spat indignantly, glaring down at Duo. "You _always_ say that!"

Yiku rolled her eyes.

"You always say that," Quatre unknowingly echoed Wufei, albeit wearily. "So you two started brawling and destroyed the place, is that it?"

Duo crossed his arms and glared at them defiantly. "Yes, basically. He threw his stapler at me and I snapped. And don't bother giving me the 'Fighting in the Workplace is Immature and Irresponsible, Not to Mention a Threat to Your Job, So Resolve Your Problems on Your Own Time, Mr. Maxwell' speech, because Une already beat you to it."

"You really threw a stapler at him?" Yiku asked, looking amused.

"Shut up," Wufei retorted, continuing his one-sided glaring match with Duo.

"Was anyone else injured?" Trowa questioned, frowning at Duo with his eyes.

Duo shook his head. "There weren't any casualties, it that's what you mean. Most people were gone for lunch…but we did knock one of the cubicle walls down though. You know, the partition thingies."

"Oh Duo, " the Arabian sighed, his chin supported by a hand and an elbow on the table as he gazed sadly out the window.

"I think he bruised my jaw too. Stupid bastard," Duo added ruefully, touching the left side of his jaw with care.

"The stapler?" The Heavyarms pilot assumed.

"Nah, I ducked that one; he missed," Duo corrected, shaking his head. "His foot didn't though."

Yiku turned disapproving eyes on Wufei. "Having issues with your temper?" she inquired sarcastically.

"Like you would understand," Wufei replied waspishly. "He had no business coming in anyway."

"Did you hit him back?" Trowa asked calmly, scrutinizing Duo's expression.

Duo refused to meet his eyes, looking everywhere except at the blond and his partner. "Well…I…"

Quatre rubbed his temples. "Duo…"

The American ran a hand over his face tiredly, a trace of bitterness seeping into his words. "I was just so frustrated, Quat. I didn't hit him hard, I tried to hold back, I really did…"

Wufei scowled. "Whatever for?"

Yiku's face assumed an expression of tortured suffering.

"Duo," Quatre said quietly, observing his friend with uncharacteristic seriousness. "How will you get him to understand if you're always at each other's throats?"

Wufei watched Shinigami's eyes harden in defense. "I'm not trying to get him to 'understand' right now, Quatre, because even I can see there's a snowball's chance in hell of _that_ happening. He's closed himself off." He brushed his bangs temporarily out of his eyes. "I'm just trying to get him to ease up off his work, you know? Free up his schedule and him some time for himself…"

"Uh-huh," the blond said without any conviction, giving Duo his version of his That's Bullshit look.

Trowa wore the stoic expression of one suppressing his amusement. "'Time for himself'…" he repeated dubiously, glancing at Quatre.

A faint pink tinge appeared across the bridge of Duo's nose. "Shove off!" he demanded in annoyance, glaring from Trowa to Quatre, but his flush refused to fade. "Don't go reading into that—I meant exactly what I said!"

Wufei looked up at a touch of Yiku's hand on his arm, on eyebrow raised in his direction. "What—?" he began.

"Suuuuuuure," Quatre teased Duo, leaning forward with a half-smile, half-smirk. "That's what they all say…"

"And what're you trying' to say…?" Duo asked with an answering mischievous smile, eyes flickering with challenge.

The restaurant was dissolving around Wufei as Quatre responded, his voice abruptly fading to broken fragments as the Chinese man felt the distance between him and them increasing.

"All the…--sick…in the…course…"

Trowa's answering snort and the injured, fake offended tone of Duo's next sentence were the last things he heard as Yiku's magic…or whatever it was…deposited him…

…right back in the hospital waiting room.

Wufei blinked. "I know I missed something at the end of that conversation, but what are we doing here? Don't tell me the grand tour is over," he said with false disappointment. "I was anticipating how I would look abandoned and unloved by all…"

Yiku shot him a dirty look. "As if that one event would penetrate your thick skull." She shook her head. "There's a lot more you need to see. But we have to check in here periodically to keep an eye on what's going on and because your body's here—you can't be away from it for too long."

She turned and looked at the three people sitting behind her. Quatre had disappeared, most likely sent home by Trowa. Heero had returned from his journey to get his car and sat on Duo's left. Duo was sleeping with his head on Trowa's shoulder in an uncomfortable way, suggesting that that had not been his original position. The green-eyed brunet didn't seem to mind his title as the Official Pillow of the Former Gundam Pilots. Heero didn't look the least bit exhausted, watching Duo threaten to drool on an unsuspecting Trowa's shoulder.

Yiku closed her eyes, listening. "Everything feels okay."

"Shouldn't we go up there and check?" Wufei asked, absent-mindedly searching for and finding the faint, nearly-healed traces of the bruise he'd given Duo in the fight he'd heard his friends discussing.

Yiku shook her head. "We don't have to. And I don't want you returning to your body before I'm through with you, Chang Wufei."

Wufei glanced at her, ghosting a hand over his left eye, the only place where Duo had left a mark when striking him out of frustration after he'd thrown his stapler at the idiot. The bruising had faded dramatically over time, and Duo had avoided him for a week and a half after the incident. Wufei had gotten a lot of work done in those eight days of peace.

"So what's next then? I don't want to float around here all night."

"First of all, we're not floating," Yiku pointed out just to be a pain. "That's a myth; ghosts don't float."

Wufei glared at her. "You said I wasn't a ghost!"

"Oh shut up," Yiku huffed in exasperation. "Ghost, spirit, soul, whatever." She looked at him solemnly, the irritation in her eyes vanishing. "We're heading into a possible future now, and it's not exactly…cheerful."

"Imagine that," Wufei said dryly.

She threw him a sharp look.

"What?" he snapped in self-defense. "That's the whole point of this, isn't it? If my future was full of happiness and sunshine we wouldn't be doing this, right?"

Yiku just looked at him for a long moment. Then she reached out silently, touching the back of his hand. Instantly, the hospital's waiting room dissolved into darkness.

"Sometimes, Wufei," she said softly from the blackness to his left, "it's not all about you."

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**Author's Note: **There you go. Let me know if you spot any mistakes and I'll fix them ASAP. REVIEW and make me want to finish chapter five! XDXD


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gundam Wing. Sadly. Although that would be pretty awesome.

**Author's Note: **Guess which fic won the poll? Lol. Wow. I'm really surprised at you guys; I had no idea so many people liked this fic! And I thought the KH fans were the crazy ones…I stand corrected.

I had some trouble with my internet today…I fought with Zack, my computer, for a good eight hours before fleeing to Dennys (Hooray for free WiFi!). I was seriously worried I wouldn't be able to post this today, and this was one promise to you guys I wanted to keep. Post one month after the poll opened. As of today the poll is closed. But things worked out and Zack decided to recognize the importance of the internet. Everyone go to Dennys in gratitude.

So…some cursing here on Duo's part…some general bitchiness on Wufei's. Maybe I'll just let you read it and tell me what you think about it. There was originally going to an additional scene at the end of this chapter, but I've decided to shove it over to the next installment. So, please, don't let my rambling distract you. Do continue.

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Chapter 5

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Three seconds later, Wufei's feet hit hard, solid ground with so much force his knees almost buckled. He stumbled and fought to regain his balance, taking a few staggering steps before he finally came to a halt. Wufei turned to ask Yiku what the hell happened to _that_ landing when a dark swath of black cut through his vision, instantly clearing into a person he realized he'd nearly run into.

"What the—"

Trowa stood on Wufei's right wearing a black suit, tall and stoic as usual, yet he seemed distinctly older, by maybe only five years or so. A sense of solemnity hung heavy in the air like a thick fog, a sense of loss permeating Wufei's consciousness although he didn't even know where he was. Glancing around swiftly, he saw he was at the front of a large group of important looking people, all of them wearing black and deathly serious, sorrowful expressions, some of them, especially women, were crying softly into handkerchiefs.

"Why…?" Wufei started, casting a bewildered look at Yiku. "What…"

Someone spoke softly not too far away and Trowa tilted his head to his right to hear his neighbor's quiet words. Peering around Trowa, Wufei found Heero talking in a low tone to the green-eyed man, with Duo just beyond him, his mouth drawn into a thin line. He didn't see Quatre anywhere, which in itself was unusual. With so many people here from the upper echelons of society: politicians, business men and women, even some government officials and military officers, surely something of this magnitude would have demanded the blond's presence. Trowa never came to these things by himself.

Although….taking a second look around, he didn't see himself anywhere, either. Then again, he had always hated formal events like this.

Duo stared fixedly at a spot on the ground twenty feet in front of him. Following the American's gaze, Wufei discovered it wasn't a random spot at all, but a large, rectangular hole in the ground. A chill ran up Wufei's spine as what felt like ice water was dumped unceremoniously into his stomach. There were very few occasions requiring people to stand quietly around a recently dug hole wearing mourning colors. So was it his…?

Wufei looked towards Yiku on his left. "Yiku, is—"

Two people away, Duo started violently and shoved a hand into his trouser pocket, glancing up to meet Heero's glare before pulling out his cell phone anyway and staring at the screen. Heero's eyes flicked briefly at the device. He and Duo exchanged a silent conversation with their eyes. Immediately, Duo forced his way through the crowd, moving around behind his two friends as strangers quietly made way for him to avoid getting their toes trampled on. Heero softly whispered two words to Trowa that Wufei didn't catch at the other man's inquiring look.

Yiku started after Duo through the gloomy crowd, pausing only briefly to motion for Wufei to follow her. Trowa watched Duo leave, eyes emotionless and almost dead-looking.

They broke free of the crowd and onto a deserted stretch of grass, stopping just before an obviously man-made pond. Duo glanced back over his shoulder, staring right through Wufei, then turned back and flipped the phone open.

"Hello?" he asked, a little colder than Wufei thought was necessary.

Wufei flicked a glance at Yiku before moving closer to the braided American, wanting to hear all, or at least most, of the conversation.

Duo watched the grass under his nudging feet, a carefully sealed off expression on his abnormally stoic face. Someone's muffled voice trickled through the phone's speakers, but it wasn't distinct enough for Wufei to hear what was being said, yet the voice was familiar…

Duo shifted to look out over the pond, slipping his other hand into his pocket not quite casually enough to be genuine.

"Where the fuck are you?" the braided man's voice could have frozen fire. "Why aren't you _here_?"

The voice started speaking again and a distinctly _bad_ feeling crept into Wufei's gut. Duo never talked that way to Quatre…

Duo started laughing, an incredulous, disbelieving sound that was not at all amused. "You're _where?_ You're fucking _kidding_ me." Wufei watched violet eyes widen at what he was hearing through the phone, eyebrows rising to his hairline, that crazy smile not leaving his face. "You're in Russia? Uh huh. And what're you doing in Russia, Wufei?"

_Shit,_ Wufei thought dismally. There was no way this would end well. On second thought he really, really didn't want to hear this phone call.

He turned back to Yiku, wanting to know if maybe they could just move on to the next part of his magical journey, when she glared at him. She was probably reading his mind again.

_You're not getting out of this that easily. _

Yiku shoved him back towards Duo with a firm push between the shoulder blades, positioning him so he was practically hanging over the American's shoulder. But he could hear both sides of the conversation now. Which was exactly what he didn't want.

"—been placed undercover in a research lab in western Russia. There isn't much I can do in terms of—"

"You knew his funeral was this week," Duo snarled into the mouthpiece, expression dropping all pretenses of hilarity, mouth curling in rage. "You knew ahead of time. I made sure to tell you. So what the fuck were you thinking accepting any mission _at all_?"

"I didn't have much of a choice—"

"Not _much_ of a choice means that you _had_ one, Wufei!"

"No one else in our department speaks Russian, Maxwell!"

"_SO WHAT?_"

"My skills were needed, so I accepted!"

"You're needed HERE!" Duo's voice cracked slightly in his anger. "How could you possibly think that any mission could be more important than Quatre's funeral?!"

Wufei cringed, feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach. Quatre's funeral…?

"Maxwell— "

"Don't you 'Maxwell' me!" the brunet raged, stamping his foot on the ground, eyes flashing. "And don't you fuckin' _dare_ tell me I'm overreacting!"

"You are!"

"Quatre's being put in the ground, Wufei, you think being sent to some podunk Russian town is more important than one of your best friend's funerals, and I'm _overreacting?!"_

"It's not a 'podunk Russian town', it's—"

"I DON'T CARE!"

Wufei took a hesitant half-step back. Duo was practically shaking with emotion, the phone trembling in his hand.

Silence reigned for a few tension-filled moments, both sides taking a second to regroup. Then—

"You're not being very open-minded about this. You're making this very hard on me."

Duo threw his head back and clawed at his hair, yanking sharply at the chestnut strands and squeezing his eyes tightly shut before replacing the phone, speaking with a strained air of forced calm as he reopened his eyes. "'Fei, ya don't seem to understand. Quatre is dead. _Dead_. As in not going to speak, or visit, or _breathe_, ever again."

His voice sounded sharp over the speaker. "I'm aware of what being 'dead' means."

"No, I don't think ya do," the American insisted, sounding as though he was explaining multiplication to a particularly slow third grader. He put his left hand on his hip, staring intensely at the water. "This isn't the 'going to rise again on the third day' kind of dead. I mean the 'slowly decaying, becoming one with the earth' kind of dead. Know what I'm trying to say, here?"

"I'm not stupid, you idiot," Wufei heard his own voice snap. "Yes, Winner's lifespan has ended, he's completed the circle of life, no longer among the living. Are there any other phrases you'd like to use to describe the man's passing from this world, Maxwell?"

Wufei stared at the technology trapped in a white-knuckled grip, marveling at how…callous he sounded. Duo's eyelids fluttered shut again, a pained expression lingering on his face.

"When did you become such a jackass, Wufei?" Duo asked softly, hanging his head.

A plume of air was exhaled in what sounded like annoyance. "Everyone dies. There's not much I can do about that, and that's the reality of the situation. Life goes on. I'll pay my respects when I return."

"It's not the same…" Duo started, looking lost, a strong sense of hurt staining this words. "You're supposed to be _here_."

"Winner will be just as dead when I get back as he is now." His voice had an icy bite to it, causing the brunet to flinch.

"Wufei, you weren't as close to Quatre as you were to the rest of us, I get it. But not showin' up to his funeral…that's beyond rude. That's like a slap in the face."

"I doubt Winner is missing my presence at this very moment," Wufei's voice said dryly, his words lacking any type of remorse. "As far as I know, he's not exactly aware of what's going on around him, am I right?"

Duo's expression hardened, jaw clenching at the other man's uncaring attitude and blatant disrespect. "Wufei…" A warning threaded his words, anger beginning to resurface. "Don't. This is Quatre, our friend and comrade you're talking about, not some unknown big shot we've never heard of, and I don't want to hear you fucking talking about him that way."

"Well, is it not true regardless?"

"Stop, Wufei! Just stop! Why the hell're you being such a heartless prick about this?" the American's voice rose furiously, energy rebounding with the return of righteous indignation. "Trowa's going to _hate you_ for the rest of your life!"

Wufei bit the inside of his cheek, eyes darting to look at Yiku, taking in the hard, calculating expression she wore.

"For being on a mission?" Wufei could imagine his own eyebrow rising.

Duo's violet eyes narrowed. "For missing Quatre's funeral, you freaking asshole. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You chose your work, _which you didn't have to accept,_ over Quatre."

A sigh traveled over the line, sounding tired and drawn out. "Maxwell, don't start with—"

"You did! You have no problem choosing your work over us, obviously."

"You're acting like I'm the one who assassinated the man—"

"Quatre," Duo interrupted heatedly. "Assassinated _Quatre_."

"Fine, assassinated _Quatre._ I'm not trying to insult him—"

"Well you're doing a damn good job of it!"

"Would you let me finish, Maxwell!" Wufei's possible future self snarled, threads of anger starting to creep into his voice. "As I was _saying,_ I'm not trying to insult Winner, or Barton for that matter, but I won't jeopardize the mission. I'm not sacrificing my cover to come back."

"Yeah, we noticed," Duo fumed quietly, tucking his unoccupied hand under his other arm. "But you'll put your friendship with life-long friends on the line."

A frustrated noise. "Don't make me choose—"

"I think you've already chosen, Wufei. And it wasn't us."

A pause. "Maxwell…"

"Would you've come back if it had been Trowa's funeral? Heero's?"

"…I…"

Duo's gaze went blank, watching the grass under his feet without really seeing it. "Would you've returned for _my_ funeral, Wufei?"

An empty silence stretched over the line, growing more agonizingly painful with each passing second. "…I don't know," Wufei's voice admitted with a miniscule amount of unease.

No one said anything for a while, and Wufei could practically see the chasm developing between the two men on the phone. In fact, it looked more like an unending stretch of darkness than a chasm. At least you could see the sides of those.

"Righto," Duo said finally, voice lacking any sort of emotion, tilting his head back to look at the sky. "I see how it is. At least now things are clear cut an' all."

"Maxwell—"

"Nah, that's okay," the brunet cut him off, shaking his head even though the other man couldn't see it.

But Wufei, standing right there, saw it, complete with the creepy emptiness of violet eyes.

"That's your choice; not much I can do about that, 'specially when you're not here, ya know?" Duo continued, blankly examining the fingernails on his left hand.

"Maxwell, don't—"

"I know you're busy and stuff, so I'll let you go. Sorry to keep you tied up for so long; didn't mean to put any kinks in your schedule or nothin'. So—"

"Maxwell!"

"—I'll talk to you when you get back, 'kay? Whenever that is. Catch ya later, Wufei."

Duo flipped the phone shut, taking a few moments to stare at the glinting screen on the front. Wufei stepped away to take a better look at the man, observing his flat, unchanging expression. He didn't like it.

Then rage spilled across Duo's features, showing all the hurt and fear and loss he was trying and failing to repress, as he wound up and threw his cell as far from him as it could get. It landed with a soft 'plink!' in the pond, disappearing rapidly into the clear water.

The American stared at the spot where it vanished, chest heaving, fingernails digging harshly into his palms.

"…Shit."

The crunch of footsteps behind them made Wufei spin around, eyes locking onto Heero's approaching figure. Heero raised an eyebrow at Duo, his gaze flickering to the rippling water.

"Yeah," Duo sighed, one hand in his pocket and the other clenched in the hair at the back of his head. "Third one this month."

"What'd he say?" Heero asked quietly, attention fixed unwaveringly on the American's face.

Duo was silent for several long moments, lowering his head to stare at the ground. "He's in Russia. Won't be back for a while, maybe a few months. You know how that goes. He sends his respects, whatever they're worth."

Heero nodded slowly, eyes moving from Duo to the grass, to the water, to his shoes. "He's not coming back."

"…no."

Sharp blue eyes snapped up to meet Duo's. Then he spun stiffly on his heel and headed back towards the crowd, making his way to Trowa.

Wufei watched Duo uneasily, shooting occasional glances at Heero's retreating back. Internally, he was battling with the strangest sentiment of self-loathing, something he couldn't remember feeling since he'd failed to kill Trieze the first time around. But…Yiku had said this was a _possible_ future, something that might occur but just as easily might not.

Yet what unnerved him the most was…he understood where this other Wufei was coming from. His work with the Preventers was important; there were very few people still alive with the training or experience to accomplish half the things they did, could go on a fraction of the missions he and Heero were frequently sent on. He could help that way, could atone for the things he and the other gundam pilots had inflicted on the world and its people during the war. But he couldn't stop anyone from dying. He'd learned that a long time ago.

A numb fear seized his chest, Wufei half-turning to stare in the direction of Quatre's recently dug grave. They were all getting older now. During the war, the likelihood of dying had been incredibly high, and in the face of something so unavoidable all five of them had openly embraced it. None of them had been afraid of death; it was as natural as living. But now, living a relatively normal life, there was something so…daunting about it. The idea of losing the only people he'd given the title of 'friend' was suddenly overwhelming.

Mourning had never been easy for Wufei; he couldn't handle overpowering emotions like sorrow and grief. They just didn't translate properly and tended to rearrange themselves into anger and a resentment of mortality. The overall weakness of the human race as a whole disgusted him. He'd never learned how to deal with something like that, and being sent out into space to destroy things had been the Doctors' answer. Which was undoubtedly why he'd accepted that mission to Russia in the first place.

He hoped.

It was just as likely that he'd lost sight of his former comrades somewhere along the way of his work and no longer cared about the trivialities of friendship. And disturbingly…that didn't bother him nearly as much as it should have. The whole point of life was adapting to change and moving on, wasn't it…?

Yiku's sober presence at his back drew Wufei out of his conflicting thoughts, a gentle hand on his shoulder pulling him from this alternate reality. Duo walked past them, his gaze distant, as color began to fade into shadows, braid swinging as he followed Heero's footsteps.

"Yiku…how do you determine what's more important: what you cherish or what you feel needs to be done?"

He turned back to look at his guide's face, but couldn't see much more than the gentle quirk of her mouth before they were enveloped in total blackness.

"That's something every individual needs to determine for themself Wufei," she told him firmly, her voice a steady contrast to the turmoil fighting within the other man. "The decisions you make regarding that question determine the way you live your life."

Considering the scene he'd just witnessed, that answer didn't really make Wufei feel any better.

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**Author's Note: **Chapter five. Status: complete. Well, really, this chapter is not complete without reviews. So tell me what you think! Rant about Wufei (I certainly did)! Sympathize with Duo! Or the other way around! Or something! I know you're out there, the poll proved it, so make me happy! Happiness and time makes me write!


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